


The New Normal

by fannishliss



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon, First Time, Foggy and Matt have never heard of Sentinels and Guides, M/M, Not AU, Post-Season/Series 02, Reconciliation, Sentinel/Guide, but they so are, matt is a sentinel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: Foggy and Matt are getting their friendship back together, when Matt fails to check in and Foggy finds him on the floor in some kind of catatonic state.





	

Foggy tried to calm himself before he unlocked the door to Matt’s apartment.  Turning the key, he hesitated for just a moment.  He wondered how far away Matt could detect him.  His hurried footstep in the hall — the way he yanked open the front door of the building — or his fast, anxious heartbeat out on the sidewalk — how tiny were the cues that told Matt he was coming?  
  
Ordinary cues, like the text he’d sent twenty minutes ago, had gotten no reply.  Matt had missed his check in last night, and so, Foggy had the right under their new improved friendship contract to barge in using the key Matt had dutifully supplied.    
  
If Matt had some insanely beautiful woman naked in his bed — well, good on Matt, but checking in every twenty-four hours was non-negotiable in their new normal.  Matt had been doing well, they’d been good with keeping in touch, and he’d texted every night this week except last night. If Foggy was late to HCB just because Matt had landed a new hottie? Their contract stipulated a penalty for missing a check-in, and Foggy would make it a good one.     
  
Calling Matt’s name, Foggy made his way down the shadowy entrance hall. The lights weren’t on (why would they be), but the giant billboard threw weird, neon shadows into the early morning light.  Foggy didn’t spend a lot of time at Matt’s place anymore.  His own new place was more of a neutral ground where they could build new, happier memories together.    
  
Foggy took a breath and tried to let go of the horrifying scenes this apartment had seared so deeply into his brain — Matt’s blood all over everything, Matt’s lacerated nakedness, the couch holding him up like a martyr.    
  
Then, Foggy saw him. Matt was on the floor by the kitchen counter, back to the wall, broken glass all around him, staring, sightless as ever of course, but somehow blank.  He didn’t move as Foggy rushed closer.    
  
“Matt!” Foggy shouted. Matt didn’t answer. He just stared straight ahead.    
  
Foggy touched Matt’s shoulder but Matt didn’t react.  Was it some kind of seizure? Matt’s eyes were open, he was breathing….  what was this?  
  
Foggy would have thrown himself to his knees beside Matt, but there was too much glass, and Matt was barefoot.  Foggy didn’t see any cuts or blood; he’d seen too much of Matt’s blood in recent years, so at least there was that. It took a minute to find the broom and get the glass cleared away.  
  
Foggy knelt down to touch Matt’s arm again. Terrifyingly, he still didn’t react.    
  
Foggy could see the pulse jumping in Matt’s neck. Matt’s heart was hammering.  The helpless, empty look on his face as he stared fixedly into the distance was awful.  
  
Foggy touched Matt’s hand, turning it palm up.  Matt finally stirred, twitching his hand as if wondering why it had moved.  Foggy wrote his name on Matt’s palm, but got no response.  So much for the miracle worker.    
  
“What happened, Matt?” Foggy asked, not really expecting an answer.  
  
Then Matt’s nose twitched, so Foggy leaned closer.  Matt always complimented his shampoo.  It was cheap, but Matt didn’t hate it, so Foggy had stuck with it all these years. Matt couldn’t see him, hear him, or even feel his touch, but maybe he could still use his nose.  
  
“I’m here, Matt — smell — “ Foggy said, feeling stupid.    
  
Amazingly, Matt took a deeper breath and made a little noise in his throat.    
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Foggy said, excited that Matt was responding.  He leaned closer, essentially putting Matt’s nose in his hair.    
  
Matt took a deep breath, let it out, nothing more.  Foggy sat back. This was so weird.  What had happened? Was this what catatonia looked like?  
  
Foggy tried to think what to do. Since this wasn’t a Daredevil problem, maybe he should already have called 911.  But this was definitely something weird about Matt’s senses, and that was Daredevil-adjacent enough to give Foggy pause.  
  
If Matt could still smell, what else might let him know Foggy was there?  
  
Foggy remembered the cherry chapstick in his pocket.   Matt always mocked him mercilessly about it.  He pulled it out and put some on, leaning forward, though Matt always said he could smell it from three rooms away.  
  
Matt sniffed more loudly, but still didn’t move.      
  
So far the chapstick had gotten the best result. Maybe in combination with moving Matt’s hands?  Moving Matt might be a bad plan, because Matt was practically a ninja and might tear him limb from limb if he didn’t know who was touching him - but it was a risk he had to take.    
  
Foggy picked up Matt’s lax hands.  They didn’t grip back, but hung heavy as Foggy lifted them toward him.   Foggy put one of Matt’s hands on his mouth and the other over his voice box.    
  
“Matt, I’m here,” he said.  “Matty.”  
  
Foggy leaned closer, letting his hair brush lightly against Matt’s face.  Matt frowned, just a little, and his hands flexed in Foggy’s.     
  
“Foggy,” Matt no more than breathed.    
  
“Yes!” Foggy shouted, amazed.      
  
Both Matt’s hands were moving across Foggy’s face — but not with Matt’s usual graceful dexterity, more as though they were numb and could barely feel at all.  Foggy guided Matt’s hands as they sought information, over his face and into his hair.    
  
“Foggy, help,” Matt whispered.  A tear ran down his cheek.  
  
Foggy’s heart broke.  “I’m trying, Matt, I don’t know what to do!”  
  
He knelt there, holding Matt’s hands to his head.  That had helped, right? Bringing Matt’s hands to his face had helped.  Maybe more contact?  He could do contact.     
  
Foggy sat down, back to the wall, and pulled Matt into his arms.  It was awkward. Matt was limp and much heavier than he looked.  Finally Foggy had Matt wrestled close to his body, kind of across his lap with Matt’s head on his shoulder.    
  
Matt’s nose twitched again.  “Cherry?” he said. His voice was harsh and rough.    
  
“Yes!”  Foggy could have kissed him. Of course that was his ongoing battle, fighting back the eternal urge to simply grab Matt and lay one on him.  Matt’s sightless eyes were trained on his lips.  Surely, if desperate times called for desperate kisses, that time was now?  
  
Foggy lowered his lips to Matt’s.  His hair fell around them. He assured himself he wasn’t taking advantage. It certainly wasn’t the most romantic first kiss Foggy could imagine. It wasn’t a kiss at all, really, just a way to wake Matt up from whatever this was.     
  
Matt was kissing back, Foggy thought.  Yes, he definitely was.  Well okay then.  
  
Matt’s hands twitched against Foggy’s neck and the back of his head.    
  
“Mm, Matty,” Foggy said, kissing and coaxing. “Come on, wake up, come back to me.”  
  
“Foggy,” Matt murmured. “Need … heartbeat.”     
  
Foggy didn’t know how he was going to make it through this.  Kissing Matt for restorative purposes was one thing.  Sure.  He could do it.  He could caress that perfect red mouth with his own, tasting Matt so intimately, the way he’d always longed for, and then he could go back to just being friends when this was all over.  For Matt, he could do it.  He could hold Matt close, he could shrug off his jacket, undo his tie, open his dress shirt and putt Matt’s inexplicably deafened ear against his heart.  Maybe Matt wouldn’t hear it breaking.    
  
Matt gave a little sigh when his stubbled cheek came in contact with Foggy’s skin.    
  
Foggy really hoped his heartbeat was enough wake Matt up — it couldn’t possibly beat any louder.    
  
Matt turned his face and nuzzled against Foggy’s skin, snuffling, tasting.  The grip of his hands felt stronger, Foggy thought wildly.  He would get through this, somehow; his dignity was a small price to pay for bringing Matt back from zombie land.    
  
“Okay, Matty, okay, whatever you need,” Foggy said, trying not to think about his dick, which was waking up a lot more emphatically than Matt was.    
  
Matt found Foggy’s nipple with his lips, and Foggy’s whole body moaned even though he didn’t let out a sound.  Fuck it, he thought.  I have the moral high ground.  Matt’s latched on to my tit and I told him he could.  No harm, no foul.  
  
“Foggy,” Matt moaned as he licked and sucked.  His hands had regained their full strength — he was clutching Foggy to him in a grip that was sure to bruise.  His tongue swiped over and over the hard little nub, and Foggy felt his eyes rolling back in his head.    
  
“Matty, Matt, wake up, come on, let’s not cross a line you don’t even know you’re crossing,” Foggy said.  
  
“Mmm,” Matt moaned.  Surely he was waking up.  
  
“Matt, can you hear me?”  
  
His lips and tongue, and oh, yeah, teeth were still pretty busy, but he answered clearly enough with a moan.  
  
“Matty, wait,” Foggy said.  “Are you awake? Say something.”  
  
“Soft,” Matt said.  Another swipe of his tongue across Foggy’s tit, then, “Foggy. Is this okay?”  
  
“More than okay,” Foggy said, “don’t stop on my account.”  
  
Matt’s hands had come back to life, with a vengeance. One hand was sneaking down the back of Foggy’s pants, pulling out the tails of his good maroon dress shirt. The other hand was maneuvering Foggy’s belt buckle.  
  
“Okay?” Matt said again.  
  
“God, yes,” Foggy said.  This was happening.  After so many years, so much heartbreak, it was finally happening.  
  
Matt’s rough fingers slipped inside Foggy’s shorts and wrapped around his dick.  Foggy couldn’t last long.    
  
“Oh, your heart,” Matt said.  His other hand was stroking up and down Foggy’s back, under the shirt, and he couldn’t seem to pull away from Foggy’s left tit.  It was zinging like crazy, a little sore, but damn, Matt’s mouth felt so good, pulling and sucking and nipping.    
  
“Foggy, come for me, please,” Matt said.    
  
Who was Foggy to argue with such a polite request? His body seized and arched as well as it could sitting there on the floor with Matt in his lap, and he gave up his load all over Matt’s calloused hand.    
  
“Yes, oh Foggy, oh, yes,” Matt groaned, and his hips stuttered in a tell tale way.    
  
They caught their breath for a moment, jammed together propped up against the wall.  
  
“My butt is falling asleep,” Foggy said after a while.  Neither of them made any effort to move.    
  
“I’m not sure I can move my legs,” Matt said.  
  
“What? Can you?” Foggy said, alarmed.  
  
Matt flexed his toes and rotated his ankles.  “Yeah, I can, they’re just really stiff.”  
  
“What happened?” Foggy said.  “Truth, okay?”    
  
Matt sighed.  “I came home early — felt a little off out there.  I was getting a drink of water when, I couldn’t feel the glass — and then my hearing went out, and then there was just — nothing.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Foggy said.  “How long were you sitting there?”  
  
“What time is it now?” Matt asked. He didn’t have his watch on.  
  
“It’s like, quarter to eight.  I was checking in on you on the way to work, because you didn’t text.”  
  
“Around eleven hours then.  Do I get a penalty?” Matt asked, smartass.  
  
“Yet to be determined, counselor,” Foggy said primly.  “Has anything like this ever happened to you before?”  
  
“Well, yes,” Matt admitted.  “I mean, after the accident, my senses went crazy.  Half the time I was thrashing around, bombarded by every imaginable sensation, and then sometimes they would just, cut out. No one knew what was wrong with me.  I was lucky to get through the worst of it while my dad was still alive.  He believed me about my senses and just kind of took it all in stride. At the orphanage, they thought I was bipolar, manic and catatonic.  Then Stick showed up.  For all his many faults, he saved my life: taught me how to meditate, how to stay focused.”  
  
“Wow,” Foggy said.  “But what went wrong last night?”  
  
“I was really tired, it had been a hard week.  And I was trying to recall where I’d heard this one guy’s voice before — and then everything cut out.”  
  
“So, if you focus too hard on one sense, the other ones might cut out?”  
  
“Well, I mean, it hardly ever happens.”  
  
“When you’re tired?”  
  
“Yeah, or when I lose focus.”  
  
“Hm.  And my heartbeat brought you back?”  
  
“Yes.  Among other things, Foggy.” Foggy could actually feel Matt’s happy smile glowing against his skin.  “I can always focus when you’re around.  You make everything so easy.”  
  
“Guess you’ll need to come around more often, then,” Foggy said.  “I’ve heard that skin-to-skin contact is very therapeutic.”  
  
“Oh, it is,” Matt said, rubbing his rough cheek lightly against Foggy’s chest.  
  
“We’ll need to revise the contract.”  
  
“What are you suggesting, Mr. Nelson?”  
  
“An upgrade.  At least four nights a week in my bed, Mr. Murdock.”  
  
“You’ll need to provide silk sheets, Mr. Nelson.”  
  
“Not a problem.”  
  
Eventually they got up off the floor.  Foggy went to work, rumpled and late though he was, after he made sure Matt got the water and food he needed, and put him to bed for some regular sleep.    
  
Foggy locked Matt’s door behind him, and pocketed the key with a jaunty step. The new normal was looking very good indeed.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Matt Murdock is a textbook Sentinel -- he uses his heightened senses to protect his territory. 
> 
> The scene in canon where Matt's hearing goes out is also textbook Sentinel. I used that scene here, so you can kind of transpose it from when it actually occurred (after Frank shot him in the head), to the post s2 break -- or you can just supposed that something similar has happened to Matt more than once. 
> 
> I also have feelings about Stick as a rogue Sentinel, and that the Chaste are Sentinels who refuse to bond with their Guides.... but that's another story. Notice too how Jim Ellison and Matt Murdock had mothers who took off when they were very young.... motherhood doesn't work too well for women Sentinels, maybe. 
> 
> Matt's spirit animal is a feral tomcat. Foggy, as we know, is a bear. :)


End file.
